Page 32 of Vows in Name Only


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“Devon, look at me.” The low, tender command contained a thread of steel, and she obeyed it. “When I called your aunt, do you know what she said after I told her who I was?” She shook her head, unable to voice anything. In the firelight, his bright gaze softened. “She said she’d been waiting for this phone call. She hadn’t known who it would come from or when it would happen, but that she never doubted she would one day have you back. Not once did she give up on you, and there was no bitterness, no resentment. Just pure happiness that she would see you again. Sweetheart,” he murmured, “they don’t blame you. So stop beating yourself up.”

“Why did you do this?” she blurted out. One, because the question had been nagging her all evening. And two, she needed a distraction before she asked him to hold her.

He was the last person she should be asking for comfort.

But in this moment, he was the only one she wanted.

How pathetic did that make her?

“At the community center, you gave me a few moments of happiness. Maybe I wanted to do the same for you. Or...” He glanced at the fireplace, and in its light, she noted the jump of a muscle along the clenched line of his jaw. “This house has never been a...happy one. Maybe I was just being selfish and wanted to steal some of what you have with your family. Even if for a little while.”

Images of his cold expression, of the desolation in his eyes as they approached his home earlier flashed in her mind. What had happened here?

Longer than I can remember.That had been his response when she’d asked him how long it’d been since he’d truly enjoyed himself. For someone who possessed wealth, power and a blue blood pedigree, he seemed so isolated...so lonely.

It was wrong. This man who had sent dozens of pizzas to a center full of kids, granting them great memories, should be offered the same selflessness in return. This man who would surrender his own happiness and future to protect his mother from humiliation should be given the same protection. This man who’d reunited her with her family just to bring her joy was deserving of that same joy.

Even if for a little while, as he’d said.

Her pulse pounded under her skin, the blood in her veins suddenly screaming, hot andalive. She could do that for him.

Staring at him, at the slight frown that indented his brows, at the thick fringe of lashes that hid the emotion in his beautiful eyes...at the bold, carnal slant of his firm mouth...

Sheneededto do that for him.

Her breath whistled through her lungs, but she still slid to the edge of her chair. Then lower, to her knees.

As if Cain caught her movement out of his peripheral vision, his head jerked around, his wolf’s gaze narrowing on her. Surprise glinted in the bright depths. Surprise and hunger. Oh God, so much hunger. Its heat warmed her skin more than the flames from the fireplace, and for a moment, she hesitated.

Would that intensity consume her? Leave her as ash?

Yes.

The answer was immediate and unequivocal.

And it would be her fault. She knew the consequences of playing with fire. She could turn back now before she crawled too far onto this path. She could end this, return to her seat and blame this impulsive decision on the wine...

She shifted forward on her knees—in supplication.

He didn’t move except for the flare of his nostrils. Did he scent the desire that threatened to incinerate her? Silly question, but here, with lust an invisible string between them, yanking her closer, she could afford a bit of whimsy. It kept her from focusing on the reality of what she courted—a sexual animal who could easily devour her.

The short, negligible distance between her chair and his seemed to stretch for miles, but she finally reached him. Settling her hands on his knees, she applied pressure, widening his thighs. He allowed it, his muscles bunching then relaxing as he slowly opened for her, straightening when she claimed more space for herself. Only when his legs bracketed either side of her torso did she stop.

And she slid her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the wide, solid expanse of his chest.

Cain stiffened, but she didn’t loosen her embrace, didn’t pull back. Desire continued to throb inside her but even more than she craved his mouth on her, she craved holding him. She needed to offer him the comfort he’d so selflessly given her. And whether he admitted it or not, he needed to be held.

In slow increments, his arms rose. Wrapped around her. Tightened. Gripped.

His big body curled over hers, sheltering her even as he clung to her. With her height—or lack of it—his frame nearly doubled over to hold her close. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t let go. No, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his heavy puffs of air bathing her skin. Each beat of her pulse transmitted an insatiable greed through her, but she closed her eyes, focusing on the power of the body surrounding her. On the fresh, earth-and-wood scent filling her nose. She inhaled, already taking him inside her.

An inarticulate groan rumbled up and out of him, and she felt the vibration before the sound reached her ears. He jerked out of her embrace with an almost painful wrench and glared down at her, face taut over his sharp cheekbones, his mouth a hard, cruel line.

“What do you want from me?” he snapped, chest rising and falling as if he’d just barreled across a great distance.

“What are you willing to give?” she asked, not intimidated by the abrupt switch in his emotions. Not hindered by the soft voice in her head that warned she was turning into one of those people willing to settle for scraps. She shushed that voice. Afraid if she didn’t, she would realize it was right.

“Nothing,” he growled, his fingers tunneling under the loose knot at the back of her head, tugging on the strands and freeing them. “Everything,” he hissed, tone rougher...angrier.